To My Knees and to Heaven
by melskylark
Summary: Evey is painfully reminded of V on the anniversary of his death while watching the fireworks over Parliament.


**To My Knees and to Heaven**

**Summary:** Evey is painfully reminded of V on the anniversary of his death while watching the fireworks over Parliament.

**A/N: I must admit the hopeless romantic inside of me and I had a major fight over whether or not I should make it so V returns. And even though that would make a grand story, I don't feel like it's this story. So I placated her with chocolate.**

**I know this isn't my best story, but the beginning was just so good…and then my muse left me to fend for myself at the end. Ah, well, hope you enjoy.**

**I don't own any of the characters or settings. But if I did, I don't think I would share V with Evey. But that's just me.**

Love.

One simple word that can raise a man to the heavens or drive him to his knees.

A word that philosophers and poets alike have tried for centuries to capture, analyze, and understand. Very few have succeeded in explaining even just adequately what love is while the rest fail miserably, blundering over useless words that couldn't possibly explain everything that goes into such a complex emotion.

I was in love once. In love with a man who was amazingly intelligent and demanded all that I could give and more. A man who was infinitely patient and was willing to lay his life down for his country. A man who's face I never saw.

It's been a year since that man's death on November the 5th. Exactly one year since a hole has been left in my heart where he once occupied. And I still can't get him out of my mind.

Today was especially hard because I could see his mask everywhere I turned. Almost everyone in London was dressed in a Guy Fawkes mask in celebration of the anniversary I blew up Parliament. I tried to join in the festivities earlier in the day, but I couldn't put my heart into it. Today may have been the anniversary of our country's new beginning, but it was also the anniversary my love had been killed. So instead of celebrating, I found myself on the same rooftop I had been a year earlier where I had watched Parliament light the sky, mourning the loss of a great man.

The ruins of Parliament were perfectly visible where I was standing. The people of London were congregated on the ground below me, preparing for the fireworks that were scheduled to go off over Parliament at midnight. I'm sure people were drinking and having a grand time, but I couldn't hear them. It didn't matter anyways, I didn't want to hear them. I wanted to be alone with my thoughts. Thoughts of him.

A year hasn't made me forget the feel of his hand on my waist the first and only time we danced. I remember how he held and touched me after my time in his prison cell, his touch full of concern, driving me to find the strength he knew was within me. I remember every movie we watched together, every book we talked about. And I remember what it felt like when my lips touched his mask and how my heart shattered when he turned from me into the cold embrace of Death.

I wiped away the tears that were softly falling down my face. Even though I was grateful for the time alone, I still wished for someone to comfort me, or at least someone to be standing with me, mourning as I was mourning. Someone else to remember the man I love so dearly. Every day I have to be so strong to help rebuild this country, to make it for the people again, to make his dream come true. There had been some upsets, especially at the beginning, but things were finally beginning to work out the way they should. He would be so proud. At least that's what I like to think.

I looked down at my watch. Only a few minutes to midnight. I wrapped my arms around myself, trying to stop the cold that was seeping into my bones. It looked like rain. Hopefully the fireworks would finish before the drops started to fall. Then I heard it. The opening chords to his favorite song.

I smiled in spite of myself as his music began to play. I looked expectantly toward the old Parliament as the music crescendo to it's peak in revolutionary glory. But it wasn't the first firework going off or the music blasting that made me gasp. It was when someone's arms came around me at the exact moment color lit the sky.

_BOOM!_ His arms wrapped around me, turning me and pulling me close.

_BOOM!_ His hug almost crushed me to his chest, and I felt disbelief and, dare I say it, hope that this was really happening, that my love had finally returned to me, my prayers were finally answered.

_BOOM!_ His hands gently caressed my hair as he whispered how much he loved me and how sorry he was for leaving me as tears began to run down my face into his shoulder.

_BOOM!_ He lifted my chin with a gloved hand, forcing me to look into his masked eyes.

_BOOM!_ I grabbed his face and pulled it down to a hard kiss, not caring if it was just a mask, just needing to show him how much I missed him in the first way that came to mind.

_BOOM!_ He pulled away, one of his thumbs rubbing my cheek, the other hand resting on my waist possessively before he pulled me close for another hug.

And as the music finished up in all it's grandeur, the fireworks giving a finale no one would ever forget but that I never saw, I opened my eyes to find I was alone on the rooftop. He wasn't there. He was gone. He was dead. My heart broke all over again with a pain like nothing I had ever felt. I fell to my knees, the sobs ripping through my chest, cursing my mind for playing such a cruel joke on me, the pain almost too much to bear. I slammed my hands into the concrete below my knees, over and over again, screaming and crying, the pain in my hands pale to the pain in my heart. It was like I was losing him all over again.

I don't know how long I stayed on my knees with tears dripping down my face, my hands bleeding against the concrete. I don't know how long it took for me to finally gather the shattered pieces of my heart and to stand up again. But when I did, the smoke from the fireworks had faded away and all of the people were gone. I felt something land on my head. I looked up and saw the heavens begin to open wide, rain drops softly falling and slowly washing away my pain. God was in the rain. He was in the rain.

I stood up straight and tall, my eyes closed, the rain rinsing away the blood I had left on the ground, and I searched deep within myself for that strength he had helped me find within myself. An eerie calm came over me, and the pain subsided into a dull ache. It was going to be all right. I was going to be all right.

Out of my purse I pulled out a flower, one of his flowers, the most beautiful rose in bloom, and touched it gently to my lips. He may be gone, but his roses remained, his memory remained, my love remained. And that would never die. I gently laid the rose down on the roof, the rain falling softly onto the petals, the water shimmering like diamonds.

Oh, God, how I miss him. But I'll never, never forget him.

I'll always love him, the man who drove me to my knees and lifted me to heaven.


End file.
